


stiles vs derek: the great die hard debate

by ninash



Series: werewolves in a winter wonderland [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 25 Days of Sterek, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Movies, Die Hard References, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Stiles holds grudges, accident prone stiles, don't scare stiles, stiles is a die hard fan and will literally fight everyone, stiles is a kickass baker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-12 19:59:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12967272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninash/pseuds/ninash
Summary: “Die Hard isn't a Christmas movie Stiles.” Derek frowns down at Stiles. Who is looking up at Derek with the most horrifying look Derek had ever seen. Like he just spilled soda on Stiles favorite comic or like he kicked Scott.“Derek. Derek. Don't do me like this. Die Hard is so a Christmas movie. It's the best.” Stiles hits pause on the movie and turns to look at Derek. Who shakes his head and walks around the couch and sits down next to Stiles. He knows he's in for a long argument.Christmas Movie(s)





	stiles vs derek: the great die hard debate

Derek likes Christmas just fine. He’s not overly enthusiastic about it like his sister Laura and he’s not a scrooge like his uncle Peter either. He likes that he can go back to Beacon Hills for three weeks and escape the cold of New York. He may run hot because of being a werewolf but he still doesn’t like the cold. 

It’s around one in the morning when the car pulls up to the large Hale house in the preserve. It looks the same as it did a few months ago when he was back for summer break. Except now it has Christmas lights strung up and window clings made to look like it's snowing. He smiles as he pays the driver and pulls his suitcase to the front door with him. He can hear the tv on in the living room and wonders if maybe Laura waited up for him. The natural fast-beating heart should have told him otherwise. 

When he walks into the house and looks to the left and into the living room, it’s Stiles Stilinski. He’s sitting upright with his legs crossed on the cushions with a bowl of popcorn in his lap. So engrossed in the movie he’s watching he didn’t even hear Derek come in. Most of the Hale family get their kicks from scaring Stiles. With him being human and almost all of them being wolves. 

Stiles has been a permanent fixture at the Hale house since before he was even born. Stiles’ mother Claudia was really good friends with his mother and aunt, Talia and Felicia respectively. When the woman passed away it had devastated the pack. Stiles still came around but it was like a solid wall of pure sadness and guilt surrounded the six-year-old. Derek and Laura became all too good at coaxing Stiles out of panic attacks. 

Derek sets his bag by the stairs and slowly walks up to the back of the couch. All the lights are off and the movie makes Stiles skin look even paler than it is. Derek smirks and reaches out and grabs the back of Stiles’ neck and leans down and whispers boo. Stiles yells and flails like he always does when he gets scared. The popcorn goes everywhere and the bowl gets chucked at Derek’s head, who catches it laughing. 

“What the hell man?” Stiles hissed at him. Hand over his heart and closing his eyes for a second. 

Derek is still laughing. 

“Not funny.” Stiles glares and throws a handful of spilled popcorn at Derek. Stiles turns and settles back on the couch. Brushing the popcorn out of his way. 

“What are you watching?” Derek asks leaning against the couch.

“Die Hard. Only the best Christmas movie ever.” Stiles waves a hand and stares intently at the scene that’s playing.

“Die Hard isn't a Christmas movie Stiles.” Derek frowns down at Stiles. Who is looking up at Derek with the most horrifying look Derek had ever seen. Like he just spilled soda on Stiles favorite comic or like he kicked Scott. 

“Derek. Derek. Don't do me like this. Die Hard is so a Christmas movie. It's the best.” Stiles hits pause on the movie and turns to look at Derek. Who shakes his head and walks around the couch and sits down next to Stiles. He knows he's in for a long argument. 

Stiles makes the argument that the movie is set on Christmas Eve. Derek says that's all the movie has going for it. Stiles makes a series of noises and flails. He goes on a full half hour rant of the key importance to the plot line of the movie being set on Christmas Eve. Derek doesn't get it and makes the mistake of saying it's just a movie.

Stiles goes silent.

“It's not just a movie Derek.” Stiles glares and it looks genuine. Stiles heartbeat is steady as he says it. 

“That's like saying Indiana Jones is just a movie.” Stiles looks satisfied at his words. Derek gives a half real, half mock gasp. 

“How dare you.” Derek growls at him. Stiles knows that's his favorite movie. 

“Indiana Jones is one of the single greatest movie franchises. Four movies released over the course of twenty-seven years.” Derek had a holier than thou look on his face. Stiles sneers at him and looks like a pouting child when he turns back to the tv and hits play. 

Derek chuckled before getting up and dragging his suitcase up the stairs and into his room. He changed into sweats and an older henley and went back downstairs. Stiles had paused the movie again and was cleaning the popcorn off the couch. Derek grabbed two water bottles from the fridge and walked back into the living room as Stiles settled back onto the couch. 

“Okay but John McClane is basically Santa, giving the gift of freedom as he saves all the partygoers from meeting the same fate as Joseph Takagi.” Stiles says in between sips of the water Derek gave him. Derek raises a brow at him and gives him a ‘really?’ look. 

The scene changes and Christmas music plays from the scene. Stiles stands and points at the tv with a manic grin and gestures wildly. Derek snorts and throws a pillow at Stiles. 

It's another fight scene that Stiles must not care all that much about because he turns his body so that he's facing Derek.

“Okay I've got another. The beginning of the movie, McClane is trying to get home for the holidays. That's the plot line of like every cliche Christmas movie.” Stiles gives him a ‘duh’ look and points from the movie to Derek. He shakes his head at the boy and purses his lips like he's thinking about it. 

They go back to watching the movie and it was only like half an hour of the film that was left. As the credits roll Derek glances over at Stiles who is lying down on his back, his head turned to face the tv with a pillow shoved under his head. His feet are in Derek's lap. The wolf smiles down at the boy, he has on a hoodie with the high school's logo on it and the hood is half up. His sweats are bunched around his knees and there's a barely-there dusting of hair on his legs. Stiles looks like a kid when he's asleep. All soft looking and relaxed. 

Derek grabs the remote off of Stiles' chest and switches it to the 25 Days of Christmas. It’s some movie about an angel falling in love with a human that causes Derek’s heart to thud in his chest. He glances down at Stiles who is softly snoring now. Derek drops his hand down to rest on Stiles's ankle. The boy’s skin is warm against his palm and Derek can feel his pulse under his thumb. He counts the boy's heart beats. His heart beats a skip faster every 80 beats. It’s the beating of his heart that lulls Derek into a deep sleep. 

That's how Felicia (Peter’s wife) finds them the next morning. Stiles asleep with his legs stretched out and his feet in Derek's lap. Derek asleep sitting up with his head tilted back and mouth parted. She smiles at the sight, the old classic version of Rudolph the Rednose Reindeer playing on the tv. She walks around the couch and sees Derek's hand resting on Stiles' ankle and she gets a warm feeling in her chest at seeing her nephew like that. She gently shakes Stiles awake and the young boy snorts and deeply inhales.

“Stiles we need to get started on the cakes.” Felicia whispers pressing a finger to her lips then gestures to Derek. Stiles snorts and pulls his phone out of his pants and snaps a few pictures of Derek at different angles before gently getting off the couch. 

Stiles had stayed over the Hales house last night because he and Felicia were tasked with making 60 cakes for the firefighters benefit tomorrow night. The cakes were part of a raffle thing. Felicia hits preheat on the oven while Stiles hits the start button on the coffee maker. The first two cakes are just going into the oven when Laura makes her way into the kitchen. She's dressed in a suit that Stiles knows she hates and he slides a thermos over to her. She's a prosecutor for a station a town over with a bigger town population. She takes a sip from the steaming thermos and hums quietly. She makes an offhanded comment about Stiles hanging the moon before she leaves the house. 

Cake number three is coming out of the oven and number four and five are going in when Derek stumbles into the kitchen. He throws himself into one of the bar stools and lays his head down on the island. Stiles bites his lip to keep from smiling as he slides a cup of coffee over the counter to Derek. 

“There you go sugarplum, just how ya like it.” 

Derek doesn’t even bother with a retort to the nickname. He pushes himself up so that he’s hunched over the steaming cup. The pale liquid not even looking like coffee the man takes so much creamer and sugar. 

“How was the flight?” Felicia asks as she rubs her forehead with the back of her hand, smearing flour on her face. She glances back at Derek who is sitting up. 

“Good.” Derek mutters taking a sip of the coffee. It’s still hot and he sticks his burnt tongue out. Stiles snorts into the bowl of cake batter he’s mixing. 

Stiles waits until Derek drinks more of his coffee. The man can’t function without caffeine. Stiles has seen Derek go on a juice cleanse, courtesy of his aunt Thea. Which included no caffeine. Stiles is pretty sure a piece of Derek died that week. 

“So Derek. Die Hard.” Stiles dips his pinky into the batter and tastes the cake. He sets the bowel down and grabs the vanilla extract. Derek groans behind him and takes another sip of his coffee. Stiles puts in two drops before picking the bowl up again and turning so that he’s leaning against the counter and starts mixing. Derek is staring at him with dubious eyes. 

“McClane’s wife is named Holly.” Stiles points his finger at Derek with the spoon in his hand. 

“Stiles-” Derek starts, twisting the cup in his hands. 

“Derek come on!” Stiles groans and stomps his foot. 

“I’d have to agree with Stiles, Derek.” Peter creeps into the kitchen like the creeper he is. He slinks up next to Felicia and presses a kiss to her temple. She smiles at him and says good morning. Stiles yelps and flails, almost dropping the bowl of cake batter. He catches it and hugs it to his stomach, glaring at Peter. 

“Holly has been associated with Christmas for a very long time now. The prickly leaves represent the crown of thorns that Jesus wore when he was crucified. The berries are the drops of blood that were shed because of the thorns.” Peter points out as he makes a cup of tea. Setting his cup aside and refilling the coffee maker for a new brew. 

“At least someone agrees with me.” Stiles harrumphs at Derek as he grabs a lemon and grates zest into the cake batter. 

“Die Hard is not a Christmas movie. No matter what you say it isn’t going to change my mind.” Derek hisses at Stiles. 

“Die Hard is definitely a Christmas movie nephew.” Peter says right next to Stiles' ear. 

The human yelps and flails. This time he does, in fact, drop the bowl and the batter spills all over the floor. Stiles instinctively takes a step forward away from Peter and his sock-covered foot hits the batter. His foot slides forward in the batter and his arms cartwheel at his sides to try and stay upright. The other foot streaks into the batter and he looks like bambi on ice. He goes down and he goes down hard. His hand hits the counter and Stiles turns over onto his side and cradles his hand to his chest. 

“Fuck.” He whispers with eyes shut tightly. Derek has an island separating him and Stiles and Felicia is on the other side of the kitchen. Peter totally could have caught him. Dick. 

“Why is Stiles on the ground?” Cora asks as she stalks into the kitchen. She steps over his prone body and sets to making her own cup of coffee. With her eyes closed, her eyes are definitely still closed. 

“Because uncle Peter is an asshole.” Derek sighs as he helps Siles sit up. 

“Let me see.” He says in a small voice. Stiles shakes his head and whimpers when Derek’s fingers graze his wrist. It’s not broken, that's for sure. Probably just sprained. 

Derek helps Stiles up off the floor. He has cake batter matted in his hair and smeared on the entire left side of his body. Derek slings an arm around his waist as he ushers him out of the kitchen and upstairs. He can hear Peter snickering and his aunt Felicia reprimanding him. They pass his mom on their way into the bathroom. Derek pushes him into the bathroom and says shower before he closes the door. Talia looks back at Derek with raised brows. 

“Is he okay?” She asks walking over to Derek. 

“Yeah. Uncle Peter scared him and he fell.” Derek shrugs. Talia pulls him in for a hug and rubs her cheek against his head. 

“I’m happy your home bear.” She whispers before pressing a kiss to his hair and pulling away.

Derek goes into his room and grabs clothes for Stiles. He sets them on his desk and starts unpacking his suitcase. By the time he’s sliding the case under his bed Stiles is trudging into his room with a towel tied around his waist. His wrist is bruising and looks a little worse than a sprain. Derek hands him the clothes with a wrist brace sitting on top. Stiles mumbles thanks and leaves the room. He comes back dressed in Derek’s clothes. They're a little big on him and the fabric swallows him up. 

“Why don’t you take a nap. I’ll wake up in a few and you can finish helping aunt Fee.” Derek offers jerking his thumb at his bed. Stiles purses his lips before nodding his head and climbing in the bed. Derek tucks the blanket up around his chin and places his hand on the back of Stiles' neck. Black veins running up his arm and a pleased sigh from Stiles. 

Derek goes back downstairs once Stiles is asleep. Cora and Peter are in the living room watching Elf. Talia is offering to help Felicia who turns down the offer. Stiles was the only one who knew the recipes by heart and she doesn’t have the paper copies with her. Derek can tell she’s starting to stress out. She was counting on the second pair of hands. 

“He’s sleeping off the fall. I can go wake him if you want?” Derek asks pointing over his shoulder at the stairs. 

“No, no dear. Let him sleep. Peter should have known better.” She says the last sentence a little louder even though they were all werewolves. Derek nods and offers to help even though he knows she’ll give him the same response she did Talia. 

So he joins Peter and Cora in the living room. Lifting Cora’s feet and sitting down. She digs her feet under his legs and tucks her arms under her head. Peter is sitting in the recliner next to the couch. They watch all of Elf and half of Bad Santa before Derek goes upstairs and wakes Stiles up. At some point, Stiles had buried himself under the covers with the pillow overtop his head. Derek smiles at the sight and shakes his head. He pulls the pillow off and the boy's hair is everywhere. He went to sleep with it wet and now it looks like he stuck a fork in an electrical socket. Derek shakes him gently and Stiles opens up one eye while scrunching up the other. A deep sigh leaving him. He sits up and drops his hurt hand into his lap. He chews on his lip before looking up at Derek.

“Could you do the pain drain thing again? I think I slept on it.” Stiles lifts his hand up an inch before dropping it back into his lap. Derek places his hand on Stiles' arm just above the brace and drains the boy's pain away. Stiles has a blissed-out look on his face before he shakes his head and struggles to pull the blankets off. When he stands the sweats Derek had loaned him are sitting low on his hips and his Batman boxers are peaking out. Derek snorts and Stiles looks down at where his eyes are. 

“Don’t diss the bat, dude.” Stiles shoves Derek’s shoulder with his good hand. 

“Don’t call me dude.” Derek grabs Stiles by the back of his neck and shoves him towards the door. 

“Aunt Fee is about ready to start slicing throats.” Derek nudges Stiles hip with his as they walk down the hall. 

Stiles is taking the steps two at a time and the long pants catch under his feet and his foot slides out from under him. Derek catches him with a hand on the railing and the other hand grabbing Stiles under his armpit. 

“Can’t take you anywhere.” Derek lets out a breath and pulls Stiles up. 

“And that's why I keep you around.” Stiles turns his upper half and pats Derek on his shoulder. 

Stiles prances into the kitchen. Derek can hear his aunt let out an audible sigh as she lists off what cakes still need to be made. Peter hasn’t moved from the recliner and Cora is asleep and snoring on the couch. Peter has the remote resting on the arm of the chair and Derek can tell he changed the tv to the Hallmark channel. No one will say it out loud over being afraid of disembowelment that Peter fucking loves cheesy rom-com movies. Derek reclaims his spot on the couch and pulls the recliner out. 

Derek, Peter, and Cora veg out on the couch all day watching Christmas movies. They watch Elf again after two Hallmark movies that Cora wakes up for. Felicia brings them lunch in the form of chicken noodle soup. She has to convince Peter that ‘no honey, Stiles didn’t spit in your bowl’. The soup is good and Cora falls back asleep with the empty bowl sitting on her stomach. Derek is the one to collect their bowels and take them into the kitchen. Stiles has a dusting of flour on the bridge of his nose and chocolate smeared above his eyebrow. He has the sweatpants rolled up around his knees as well as the sleeves of the shirt rolled up. Derek watches Stiles and Felicia work for a second. They work around each other in synchronization. At one point Stiles cracks an egg with one hand and Derek finds it utterly attractive. That would be his queue to retreat back into the living room. Derek ends up falling asleep at the end of Home Alone. When he wakes up it's dark outside and there’s a blanket draped over him. Peter is asleep in the recliner with a dick drawn on his forehead in blue sharpie. Derek rubs the sleep out of his eyes and closes the recliner with his feet. He stands and bumbles into the kitchen where his aunt is pulling a cake out of the oven. There’s a mountain of dishes drying on two laid out dish towels and the counters have been cleared. 

“Done for the day?” Derek asks with a yawn. Stiles looks over at him from his spot at the counter with a bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream and nods.

“Forty-two cakes.” Felicia nods her head, placing the cake on a cooling rack. She wipes a bead of sweat from her forehead. Derek looks over at the clock and it’s a little past eleven. 

“We’ll make the rest tomorrow before the benefit.” Stiles says around a mouthful of ice cream. Derek hums at him. 

“Stiles honey, you should get going.” Felicia gives him a look as she takes his empty bowl and places it in the dishwasher. Stiles sighs but nods his head. At some point he must have changed back into his now clean clothes. Stiles and Derek lock eyes. Felicia hums with a knowing smile and an offhand comment about going to wake up Peter.

“I’ll walk you out.” Derek offers jerking his thumb at the door. Stiles head dips and a heavy blush settles on his cheeks. 

They walk to the door. Stiles keys jingling in his pocket. They walk outside and it’s surprisingly cold out for winter in California. Derek closes the door behind him and stands on the porch as Stiles walks down the short three steps and stands on the walkway. The outside lights are motion sensitive and kick on. Stiles shoves his hands into the pocket of the hoodie and looks up. He lets out a big breath and it gets caught in the frost. A small smile pulls at the boys' lips. Derek knows how much Christmas means to Stiles. It had been his mom's favorite and every year she had helped with the fireman's benefit. So it was only natural that Stiles had started helping after she passed. 

“Hey Derek look.” Stiles' voice is soft and barely audible. Derek looks over at the boy who still has his head raised heavenward. 

Derek looks up and sees small white flecks falling towards them. He can’t remember the last time it snowed in Beacon Hills. Maybe when he was younger, much younger. He steps off the porch and comes to stand by Stiles. 

“You know it snowed in Die-” 

Stiles starts but is cut off when Derek swings around and connects their lips. Derek's hands go up and cup Stiles' cheeks. Stiles reacts and bunches Derek's tee around his waist. It’s not their first kiss and it certainly won’t be their last. There’s nothing really special about the kiss. No fireworks or electricity. When the two pull away their breaths are seen in the night air. The snow gently falling around them and sticking to the ground.

“You better go now before the roads get too slippery.” Derek’s breath is hot fog against his lips and a shudder runs down Stiles’ spine all the way to his toes. 

“Mhmm.” Stiles hums pressing another kiss to the older man's lips. 

They pull apart slowly. Neither really wanted to but knowing they have to. Derek steps back towards the house as Stiles starts to his jeep. Derek is on the top step of the porch and Stiles is standing up on the floor of the jeep so that he’s looking out over the door. 

“Merry Christmas to all and to all Yippee-Ki-Yay Motherfucker!” 

“Stiles no.”


End file.
